


For The Greater Good

by WordsAblaze



Series: Whumpskier [9]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Mages, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Self-Sacrifice, no beta we die like jaskier doesn't, when are there not mages with my whump ??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26916457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAblaze/pseuds/WordsAblaze
Summary: Everyone knows sacrificial rituals are bad news but Geralt and Jaskier have the displeasure of witnessing why firsthand... day nine of whumptober.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Whumpskier [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949428
Comments: 4
Kudos: 171





	For The Greater Good

**Author's Note:**

> heads up, jaskier is part fae and thus has magic - i never rly write jaskier as human anyway but i need to specify so this isn't totally confusing :p  
> today's pairing: geralt/jaskier  
> prompts used: "take me instead" / "run!" / ritual sacrifice

If there’s something the continent could definitely do with less of, it’s the dark rituals of mages.

“We are never taking a contract from this town again,” Jaskier mutters decidedly.

“Can’t take a contract if we’re dead anyway,” Geralt replies, his tone making it unclear whether he’s joking around or just very concerned.

Jaskier is most certainly _not_ amused though. He glares at Geralt, wishing he could fold his arms instead of just standing there, hating how the witcher can be so casual about life and death and the grey area inbetween also known as their limited immortality. He loves him, sure, but he really hates his coping mechanisms sometimes. Most of the time, actually.

“You okay, Jaskier?” Geralt asks after a minute of silence.

He simply shrugs. “I haven’t succumbed to hopelessness, if that’s what you mean?”

Geralt snorts, then clears his throat. “The, uh, ropes aren’t too tight?”

It would be a comical question if the ropes around his chest weren’t, in fact, just a little too tight. But he’s not about to admit to that so he just offers his witcher a smirk. “Is that what you’re daydreaming about?”

This time, it’s Geralt who’s confused, staring at Jaskier with a mix of pride, disbelief, and irritation, which are usually his most common responses to these kinds of situations anyway. 

“You’re awake,” someone - note, the mage who’d somehow gotten the upper hand on them - says from the doorway.

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “If one more mage carefully plans how to knock me out only to make a point of _stupidly_ commenting on when I wake up, I’ll have enough inspiration to write my own reference book.”

“Not a bad idea,” Geralt chuckles.

Both of them gasp as the ropes around their chests tighten, pressing them closer to the stone pillars they’re secured to as the mage steps forward, curiosity glinting in his eyes. “I can’t decide who’s most likely to survive.” 

“What?” Geralt asks on behalf of them both, his voice barely audible as he struggles to draw breath properly.

A second mage appears in the doorway, a frown on her face. “What is taking so long, Alfredd?”

“He’s just indecisive,” Jaskier answers brightly.

The woman glares at him before stepping inside, raking her gaze across each of them in turn. “Just pick the witcher, non-humans have always survived the longest,” she says eventually.

Geralt’s eyes widen but before he can protest against the plan he’s sure Jaskier has just made, the bard clears his throat pointedly. “Take me instead.”

“Jas, no _-_ ”

“Why would we do that?” the man asks, cutting Geralt off as he moves to face Jaskier.

“You’re not human, are you?” the woman deduces, clearly intrigued by his proposal if the barely hidden glee in her voice is anything to go by.

Jaskier winks at them. “Better someone who’s only partly human than someone who’s entirely human and just a little mutated, right?”

“Stop talking!” Geralt hisses because although the mages are none the wiser, he can smell all the fear in the room, and only half of it is coming from himself. 

“Shut up, he’s right,” the woman says, flicking her wrist to undo the ropes around Jaskier, who promptly gasps and all but topples forwards, his legs unsteady under him. 

“Jaskier!” Geralt shouts, and there’s an awfully loud _sadness_ to his tone that makes said bard wince.

The woman takes a firm hold of Jaskier’s wrist, pulling him along and out of sight without giving them a chance to even glance at one another.

“You’re free to go, witcher,” the man tells him tonelessly, waving a hand as the ropes around Geralt loosen and he rather embarrassingly wobbles around for a moment before he can catch his bearings once more. The mage is gone by the time he can feel his toes again.

Geralt curses.

He takes a moment to regret being kidnapped for some sort of dark magic sacrifice without his armour or his weapons but he doesn’t dwell on it, instead focusing on Jaskier’s scent to try and find him because that’s far more important.

It doesn’t take long.

Later, Jaskier will raise his eyebrows and tease that he was only so quick because the mages’ house consisted of approximately three and a half rooms. But in the moment, he doesn’t care for anything but the way Jaskier is kneeling on some sort of raised, glowing platform. 

There are no ropes this time and he’s clearly only on his knees because he’s _exhausted_ and unable to hold himself up. If that wasn’t enough on its own, the way his skin has taken on an alarmingly translucent hue, hinting at just how much he’s fighting whatever it is he’s clearly being sacrificed to, has Geralt’s heart clenching.

“Jaskier!” He yells as smoke begins to fill the room - that’s never a good sign, especially when it comes to rituals and even more so when those rituals involve complicated runes being drawn on the floor.

But Jaskier groans in pain before Geralt can come up with a plan, his face scrunching up as he throws out a hand towards the mages who seem to have finally spotted their unwelcome visitor. 

“Run!” Jaskier yells at him, his voice trembling even within the single syllable. 

Only then does Geralt realise his magic is probably the only reason he hasn’t yet been cursed to oblivion and back by one of the others. He doesn’t wait long before deciding to trust in Jaskier’s magical capabilities and taking the opportunity to render the mages unconscious before they figure out how to move again.

He can all but sense the tears that escape Jaskier as he struggles to maintain his defences both against the mages and for his own life force, even when the platform under him stops glowing and the ritual seemingly falls apart without its original anchors.

“You can let go now,” Geralt whispers as he reaches Jaskier, who manages a small smile before his eyes flutter shut and he slumps. Right into Geralt’s arms.

They both know Jaskier’s magic can be taxing but it’s never any less frightening to see the way he crashes after using too much, and it’s infinitely worse when Geralt knows he’s only done it for _him_.

Jaskier whimpers softly as Geralt lifts him upright and cradles him close but he doesn’t stir even as they leave, Geralt not really accidentally settling the place ablaze behind them - they’d caused Jaskier to burn out so it’s only really fair the favour is returned.

**Author's Note:**

> revenge is lit, am i right ??  
> (sorry, i'll see myself out for that - hope the fic was better quality than my puns)
> 
> thanks for reading !! toss a kudos/comment?


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